


A Beginning Under Moonlight

by pumpkindragon



Series: Moonlight Gypsy [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-26 15:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/967637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumpkindragon/pseuds/pumpkindragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For those of you not familiar, the blond is intended to be a Vodaun (voodoo) priest, thus he has control over the dead. The character is *very* looser based on Sasha Cohen from "Make It or Break It"- i.e., mostly his appearance. The man just looks like he has secrets. Try to watch that show again and not think about it!</p></blockquote>





	A Beginning Under Moonlight

Ichimaru was annoyed at the orders across his desk, and the report that lay beneath it. He teased out the report, rereading it again, despite having memorized the contents. Five shinigami from 3rd Division had been slaughtered on a Hollow hunt. He opened a drawer, pulling out a pair of wire glasses, checking the office door- closed now, despite the afternoon heat and the hum of conversation behind it. He plopped them on his nose, and reread the report again, this time slower, and not guessing at the words.

Five bodies scattered around the street corner, one of them a seated officer. All of them shredded with claws resembling switchblades, only six inches long, arranged like they had been attached to a hand. The entire fight must have taken mere moments, because three of the five had not drawn their Soul Slayers, there was little damage to the street itself, and no reports in the human newspapers. He tsked- he was going to have to speak to his Division again about keeping Soul Slayers drawn, and luring powerful Hollows to less populated areas. 

He read the orders- from the Commander-General himself- to get the bodies retrieved from 4th Division, and to find the Hollow and destroy it. Grumbling to himself, he slipped the glasses off and put them in carrying case, which went into his pocket. He’d need them for Unohana. 

He didn’t keep his mind on his business- berating his fukutaichou and Division on how to run a proper Hollow hunt, and then releasing the bodies from Unohana. He had to put on his glasses to read the paperwork, but Unohana knew how bad his eyes were and had prescribed the glasses anyway. 

He’d almost gone home, but it was near dark, prime time for Hollows to feed on stray travelers. So he slipped the glasses in their case, back into his pocket, and away he went. There were more foreigners than he remembered in the tourist section- the modern inventions in transportation had drawn many thrill seekers. He waved at a few geisha he knew, stopping to flirt, coming away with a hair ornament pinned to his jacket. He wasn’t supposed to show himself to humans, but the geisha never told on him. And after that one Hollow, he hadn’t had a choice: hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, but a geisha turned Hollow had nearly taken him apart, and he’d needed to bandage himself and rest before returning. So he waved, he flirted, and gave their powdered cheeks air kisses, making the little apprentices blush and ask of him. 

He went on; sensing the Hollow like a dog would follow a scent. But this Hollow flickered in and out, one moment here, and one moment not. It didn’t seem to move to another area, but seemed as if it simply faded out for a few steps, and then back. When he did manage to get close, he slipped his Soul Slayer out. 

Peeking around a corner, he saw a foreigner with dirty blond hair, tall and athletic. He was with a Japanese man in his early twenties. The foreigner was dressed in bright, eye catching colors, having several bracelets on each wrist and layers of beaded necklaces which seemed to have bones on them. It moved oddly, but Ichimaru was concerned with the odd human. The Japanese man drew his attention- long hair in a ponytail- he almost tsked- probably claiming to be the last scion of some samurai house- a traditional kimono and a sword stuck in his sash. They were walking down the street, arm in arm. The Japanese man vanished, but the foreigner didn’t seem to notice, commenting in an odd language and waving at the sky. More interesting, he kept his arm that had been laced in the Japanese man’s in the same position. When he reappeared a few feet later, neither seemed to notice. 

Ichimaru, making sure he was invisible to human eyes, walked out behind them, sword to his thigh. It would be hard to kill the Hollow without hurting the man or disturbing the street, which was packed. So he simply walked behind them, raised his sword, and brought it down. When the sword seemed to freeze in the air, he wisely let go and darted to the side. When he looked up, the Hollow was finally revealed- a giant thing with fur, looking somewhat like an oversized orangutan, long claws bared in the moonlight. 

Confused, he eyed the Hollow, which seemed content not to attack. He began to weave a demon spell when a different spell hit him in the side, the dirty blond attacking him in an odd, musical language, despite the fact he wasn’t visible. Eyes widened, he flash stepped a short distance away, directing the demon spell at the blond instead of the Hollow. It missed, and it was thin Ichimaru noticed people were leaving the area. They weren’t running, but it was if they’d decided to go somewhere else. 

Too many for truth, or sensitives. The blond is causing this. 

He went after the blond, figuring he could kill the docile Hollow after. The fight was oddly silent, he would recall later, only the sounds of that odd language punctuating the night, the sounds of his demon spells, and when he retrieved his Soul Slayer, the sounds of the sword catching and reflecting spells, whistling through the air. 

When the fight ended, it was an accident. With his poor eyesight, he didn’t see the ice in the shadows of the buildings, and he slipped, twisting his ankle and popping the knee out of joint. He slammed into the wall of the building, seeing stars. By the time he could see again, there was a dagger in each arm, pinning him to the wall through his biceps. He grunted. 

”That is not your lover. It is a ghost, and it will eat you.” He said in slow Japanese, licking his lips. The blond shook his head, eyes bright with grief, speaking in accented Japanese. ”No, I can control him. You have come to take my love away.” 

Ichimaru blinked, tilting his head to the side. The man was clearly grieving, and delusional under that grief. So Ichimaru did what he thought best- he kicked the blond in the groin, only to find his feet captured, and knives nailed through his thighs. 

“You can’t have him. He is my heart.” That strange language issued forth again, those green eyes locked on Ichimaru’s face. The magic rode the air, tightened around him, stealing his vision. The pain spiked, then subsided, and Ichimaru blinked suddenly grainy eyelashes. 

“You death gods forget what it is to be human, to be vulnerable. It is time you learned it.” So saying, the blond ripped out the knives, and arm in arm, walked away with his now human looking lover. Ichimaru fumbled towards his sword, but he couldn’t find it, he couldn’t stand, all he could manage was a crawl. 

He couldn’t sense the Hollow. He could barely see the strange pair. Even when his sword was in his hand, he could feel nothing save the texture of the hilt. Under the full moon, he could not summon the door to Soul Society. It was not that he lacked strength, only that the living could not summon such a door, let alone go through it. 

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you not familiar, the blond is intended to be a Vodaun (voodoo) priest, thus he has control over the dead. The character is *very* looser based on Sasha Cohen from "Make It or Break It"- i.e., mostly his appearance. The man just looks like he has secrets. Try to watch that show again and not think about it!


End file.
